You Can See Everything (2026) Review

Fielder and Oppenheim are promised unfettered, naturalistic access to Holmes and her husband in the month before her imprisonment.

The project seemingly starts off as a surprisingly earnest effort to get an honest read on one of the most infamous scammers of the last decade, and Fielder comes across as a sincere student of human nature— something he’s certainly had practice in observing and manipulating. Oppenheim utilizes extremely close up shots with dark hues and subtle lighting that often frames every tick and every mouth movement at its center, making every interaction feel like a physical interrogation of hidden motives and emotions. Holmes is particularly disconcerting in the first half, always forcing a sly, overly manicured smile paired with an odd, contrived bubbliness that clearly puts Fielder on the defensive more often than not. So many of the interactions are clearly frustrating to Fielder (and the audience), as Holmes plays an unknowing airhead in almost every interview— the same person heralded as a genius just a decade before.

The film eventually is forced into becoming a metacommentary on the documentary process, public image and media fictionalization, and how Nathan’s own self-insert style and clear lack of expertise in the technological and scientific elements of Theranos leads him to becoming another (possible) victim of Elizabeth Holmes.

This metacommentary ends up involving reenactments of interviews and phone calls between Fielder and Holmes, a necessity due to Holmes’ imprisonment and her husband becoming more and more of a roadblock to the documentary process. These reenactments and meta-moments about making these reenactments feature Amanda Seyfried ( who played Holmes in the Hulu biopic The Dropout about the Theranos story), and are some of the most powerful moments in the film. At this point both Amanda and Nathan clearly have an emotional attachment to Holmes, or their (perhaps naïve) idea of who Holmes is, and add to the tension and distrust which underlines the entire narrative.

Overall, this is one of the best documentaries of the past decade, and the film certainly deserves its praises. Oppenheim expertly frames uncomfortable, strange, and paranoid interactions perfectly through his directing, and every shot layers on more and more distrust and confusion between the subjects, crew and audience. Nathan is at his prime here, playing what feels like a version of himself that parallels reality, although just like Holmes, we can’t ever truly know which is the real Nathan— if there’s even one there at all.

The film ends on a satisfying conclusion, leaving it up to the audience to parse through the film’s interactions- the careful choice of wording of its subjects, every facial tick and contrived smile or tear drop— and compare it against the version of Holmes we were presented through mainstream reporting. In the end, the film neither rehabilitates her image or lets her off the hook, but instead shows us that the truth is closer to fiction than anyone is comfortable admitting, and that perception is truly reality when dealing with people like Holmes and Fielder.